veneficial | golden peacock inbox

[ A large organization. Noted. He'll circle back to that when he doesn't quite literally have his dick in his hand.

Which, well– Maruki cracks an eye open to look down his body, brow creasing. He probably looks pretty pitiful, all things considered. ]

Ah, well... I was already laying in bed when our call connected, so I still have my sleepwear on...

[ Some people like that, don't they? A person being so desperate that they can't undress properly, can't do anything more than shove their clothes away just enough to touch themselves. Or maybe Corbeau would rather that he was entirely bared, naked in his empty room. Either way, Maruki's sure he'll find out. ]

I'm– trying to go slowly, but it's hard. [ Hah. ] To say the least.

That's perfect. So you're all soft and cuddly, the picture of innocence while I'm making you misbehave. Don't think being cute will make me go easy on you. You're not allowed to come yet.

[ There's no room for argument. ]

But don't worry, I won't make you suffer too long. I just want you to do one more thing for me.

[ It's pitiful to get so worked up over someone calling him soft and cute when they really have no idea what he looks like, but Maruki's quickly coming to accept just how pitiful he is. He wishes he could have a mental image of Corbeau, too. Whatever his mind is conjuring up, the leader of an organization who would have no problem putting him on his knees, surely pales in comparison to the truth. ]

Of course. [ Breathless but obedient; his hand doesn't still, but it slows, and he won't let himself tip over the rapidly approaching edge until he's told. ] Anything. What is it?

Make a pretty sound for me when you come.

[ Fondness blooms in his voice, albeit tinged by a little something spiky and dangerous. ]

You've got the voice for it. I can tell.

[ Corbeau isn't wrong, and deep down, Maruki knows it. It's not as if he's never been made aware of how people feel about the way he looks or sounds, though he can never seem to pick up on it on his own. He never plays it up on purpose, either, it's just– how his voice sounds. Breathy, soft and honeyed, gently sure of himself when he's in control of a situation and utterly wrecked the moment someone else takes over.

His next breath hitches high, a moan whimpering past his lips as his cock jerks dangerously in his hand. ]

I will. For you, I will, I– is that permission? Corbeau, please...

[ While he doesn't think of himself as a nice guy, Corbeau isn't interested in prolonging this 'torture' any longer. ]

Yes. Come.

[ Soft, but still enough firmness to be an order. ]

[ One word of permission is all he needs to fall apart. His hips strain up off the bed, fucking into the tight ring of his fingers just beneath the head of his cock once, twice, three times before his teeth cut into his lower lip to keep from crying out too loudly. Even trying to restrain himself, though, Maruki is still vocal, loud– unfortunately for his neighbors, and fortunately for Corbeau, getting exactly what he asked for as Maruki cranes his head back against the pillows and gasps for breath with each soft, piteous moan.

He's so swept up in the moment, he's entirely forgotten what started all this, the demand from Corbeau that he taste himself. It couldn't be farther from his mind as he gently floats back down to earth, body slumping down onto his bed, one eye cracking open to look down at the come streaked up across his chest. ]

Hah... I can't believe I did that when I haven't even met you...

You’re very sensitive. It’s charming. It will serve you well in a place like this, it’s silly to be embarrassed about it.

[ Praise, all be it still spoken like someone of authority. ]

But, you promised me something. You didn’t forget, did you? I don’t like people who don’t keep their promises.

[ There's a heavy pause as Maruki's mind slowly congeals itself back into a logical, coherent thing, and his memory of their conversation returns to him, and– ]

Oh– oh, my...

[ Just. Give him a second. To clear his throat and try to compose himself. ]

R-right. Of course. I didn't forget, Corbeau.

[ He glances down his body at where he shoved up his shirt, the come streaked along his stomach. Slowly, he swipes two trembling fingers through it, then brings it up to his lips– though he doesn't taste just yet. ]

Just a bit, right?

Enough to describe your flavor for me.

[ He’s quite satisfied with how this entire thing has played out. Encountering this guy later should be very rewarding. ]

Let me know how my future dining experience will go.

[ Future dining experience makes a soft noise jolt from between Maruki's parted lips. If Corbeau met him, would he really want to get on his knees for him? It seems so much like it should be the other way around...

But he's not about to disobey the order. Tentatively, he slips his fingers into his mouth, lets the taste and texture linger on his tongue. He has nothing to compare it to, no experience with another man to give him any sort of context for how to describe this. A few long moments of silence as he considers it, and then he swallows, an act that feels infinitely more lewd than pleasuring himself to get to this point. ]

It's... a little bittersweet? [ Not similar in flavor to a grapefruit, not at all, but– similar in experience, maybe. That lingering acrid base that underlies mild sweetness. Maruki's brow furrows. ] I wasn't expecting it to be so mild, so I"m not sure what to say. I... I suppose it's not bad, though.

Sometimes it's about the journey more than the destination. I doubt anyone would call it haute cuisine, though I've heard what you eat determines the flavor.

[ A useless bit of trivia he's not even sure where he picked up, probably a pair of grunts having one of their many inappropriate conversations during business hours. When you employ a specific type some things just come with the territory. ]

For now, I'll wish you a good night. Hopefully these stupid things let us sleep soon.

[ Despite the intensity of everything that just occurred between them, that draws a laugh out of Maruki, exhausted and relieved all at once. He feels– strangely light, not how he thought he might feel after his first foray into phone sex, still alone in his cramped room. Perhaps the loneliness will settle in soon enough, but for now, this is fine. This is good. ]

Good night, Corbeau. And... thank you. [ It's so breathless, so warm, so painfully genuine. ] When I see you, I'll return the favor.

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hehe wrapt